


Lessons from Childhood

by jxneun



Category: Digimon - All Media Types
Genre: Coming of Age, Developing Relationship, F/M, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, aged up and aged down characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:22:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26301121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxneun/pseuds/jxneun
Summary: Jyou learns things the hard way: there are things you don’t expect to learn throughout your lifetime, whether it be lessons from children, from young love, or from familial expectations. Some lessons, you simply can’t learn from textbooks. Much to Jyou’s chagrin, no matter how much you pay for tutoring or for the latest edition of a test prep book, you can’t buy hands-on experience.Jyou learns this first hand, as a tutor to four children.
Relationships: Ishida Yamato | Matt Ishida & Yagami Taichi | Tai Kamiya, Ishida Yamato | Matt Ishida/Yagami Taichi | Tai Kamiya, Kido Jou | Joe Kido/Takenouchi Sora, Takaishi Takeru | T.K. Takaishi & Yagami Hikari | Kari Kamiya
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Lessons from Childhood

Haphazardly going through his paperwork, Jyou was at a loss. He didn’t win any of the scholarships he applied to. None of the needs-based nor merit-based scholarships chose him. His family’s income was too high to be eligible to receive federal aid, but his family’s household income was too low to pay for his full expenses trip to Nicaragua. Honestly, his entire life, Jyou lived in Odaiba. The most “exciting” thing that happened in his life was the terrorist bombing where he used to live in Odaiba. He didn’t really remember much about it, only the deafening noise that permeated through the thin walls of the apartment building and the rumbling of the walls and ground. Otherwise, Jyou would confidently say that his life was pretty ordinary.

His life was fairly simple, as his family rarely ventured outside of Tokyo to travel or to explore. He didn’t really mind, as most summers were spent at cram school or in music lessons. He lived a comfortable, humble lifestyle and he didn’t really ask for much. Sure, it got boring at times, but peace eased Jyou’s worrywart heart and soul, and boring was comforting, as odd as that sounds. He valued monotony, even if that seemed contradictory to what most teens his age wished for. Maybe it’s because of his anxious heart, or his old soul, but Jyou loved having a sense of stability, either through established routines or schedules detailed to the very last minute of each day. 

So, when he was basically told that he would have to take a trip to go to a foreign land across the world as a requirement to continue participating in an internship, it’s safe to say, that it’s an understatement that Jyou was worried. Thrown on a loop, now his peaceful routine was interrupted. He didn’t have the privilege of starting each day in the same manner, nor did he have the choice in saying no. He was full on panicking, terrified, and he had a ton of questions, those of which pumping out with each passing moment. 

His medical brigades program had enforced a policy that required officers to partake in the annual trip to a developing country, as a chance to amp up their resumes, but also to enrich their own experiences, or to “expand their horizons”, so that they could develop compassion towards marginalized populations... Knowing this, Jyou excitedly brought this up to his parents, whose quizzical and skeptical looks would haunt him forever. They asked, “ _And how is that going to help you get into medical school? More importantly, who is going to pay for it_?” and Jyou was at a loss. 

Jyou wasn’t adventurous, not one bit. His parents knew his whereabouts were limited the the following: home, school, or cram school. When Jyou was feeling adventurous, he’d go to the library every now and then... He was the type to avoid stomach lurching rides at amusement parks, or louder than life concerts where it would be highly possible that his eardrums could burst, and he wouldn’t be able to hear out of his left or right ears the following day. Adrenaline didn’t excite him, it scared him. Ultimately, based on his meek demeanor, it’s clear that his amygdala’s “fight or flight” response heavily leaned towards flight. 

So, when he had made the decision to bike around town, whether it be on his school grounds or at the town plaza, he didn’t realize how many jobs would require so much customer service skills or overall interpersonal skills. Jyou wanted to be a doctor, but he didn’t really have any burning desires to necessarily practice medicine. If anything, it was more his parents’ insistence that he should pursue a career in health. Even though they knew Jyou would pass out in the mere sight of blood, it was always the same mantra, “ _You have three choices: a career as a doctor, engineer, or as a lawyer,_ ” even though Jyou knew that they obviously wanted him to be a doctor.

His goal was to fund his trip, a trip to a developing country of his club’s choice; clearly, it wasn’t going to fund itself and his parents had expected him to be responsible and pay for his own trip. He wasn’t naturally gifted or as diligent as his older brother, nor was he fortunate enough to land the scholarship for the trip. Sighing, he scoped the marketplace postings, and he quietly muttered to himself. Why did he even have to go to a developing country in the first place? Sure, it seemed to be nice on paper, but what if he contracted malaria? What if he caught some parasite by drinking unfiltered water? What if he was unable to stomach any of the local indigenous foods? What if his wide array of food intolerances and allergies were so foreign to the local people that they found his hesitation to try their ethnic food as offensive? 

Obviously, this was a small list of questions that resounded within Jyou’s mind, but he had to focus on the game plan: find a job, and find it quick. He needed a summer job so that he could save up and manage to afford the trip. As he calculated the possible pros and cons to certain types of summer work he could do, he realized he was hitting a wall. He didn’t even consider how there would probably be a huge language barrier on the trip! Quite frankly, Jyou’s English speaking skills were amateur at best, even with over ten years of English language learning... He stumbled on his words, forgot to include articles, and totally messed up his sentence structures. Sure, he could write in English just fine, but once he was put on the spot, whether it be in class or when talking to a native speaker, he was a mess. His incoherence and blathering tended to make the other person even more confused... His failure to speak in perfectly fluent English was reprehensible, especially since he had gotten private lessons, and his older brother was even able to self teach himself proper English.

He needed to find a job, and he needed to find it fast. Otherwise, he would be stuck spending another summer in his room, with only summer coursework to do! Sure, it was good to review material from his main courses, but Jyou wanted to be able to feel ready for medical school, and unfortunately, medical schools had set expectations and emphasized holistic review. His parents wouldn’t let him settle for a second-tier university; there were no “safe schools” or “reach schools” in the Kido household, the bar was set at the best of the best. 

Thus, he was stuck in this predicament, and his eyes glazed over the flyer. It was a summer tutoring job that required a tutor to teach four kids, two of which were in the third grade and the younger two were in the first grade. There were small pieces of paper he could tear for the contact info, and in all honesty, it seemed like a pretty good deal. He stared at the flyer in disbelief. It seemed too good to be true; the hours were flexible, the pay was better than the retail or restaurant jobs Jyou found at school and online (to which he recoils in shame, thinking of his past failed attempts to function while serving tables at a bustling restaurant), and the schedule seemed fairly do-able, as the gig was only for three to four months and depended on his availability. If it went well, then he would be able to fund his trip and take his usual classes while working! 

Quite frankly, Jyou was surprised things seemed to work in his favor. After a short interview with the brunette woman, who introduced herself as Yagami Yuuko, she simply stated that Jyou seemed trustworthy, and that she needed to have someone help guide the kids in their studies. When he awkwardly complimented her for being able to handle raising four children at once, she looked at him like he just said that pigs could fly. Upon realization, she quickly clarified that two of the kids were a family friend’s, and that the other parents were at their day jobs. After going through the logistics and schedules of the kids, Yuuko asked if Jyou had any last questions. 

“Yes, when can I start?”

—

Throughout the first several weeks, Jyou was faced with a challenge. The kids were in separate grade levels, and it seemed like the older two didn’t exactly bode well together. It wasn’t explicably stated by Yuuko-san (who he referred to as Yagami-san at first, but she insisted that he call her by her first name) that there would be conflict between the kids, but Jyou sensed the tension, especially when he found the two already clashing on the first day of tutoring. 

At least with the younger two, it was a relief that they seemed to enjoy one another’s company. The younger two seemed to be on good terms, and they performed well academically for their age, with the exception that Takeru seemed to feel discouraged easily. It was sweet to see how Takeru was so eager to help out Hikari; even though she didn’t exactly seem to really need it at times, she always consciously made the effort to hear Takeru out. To Jyou, the brunette girl was a little odd to him at first, but he realized that those qualities about her made her special. 

When Jyou was feeling overwhelmed, it helped that the older siblings never hesitated to jump to the rescue when their younger siblings struggled with their work or failed to understand Jyou’s overly descriptive explanations. In observing the four kids’ dynamics, he found it interesting how the younger two took a particular liking to Taichi. Often, he’d find Yamato sulking in the corner, visibly upset. After frequent and incessant questions, he finally prodded Yamato’s hard shell open, and the young blond revealed how he felt like Takeru would prefer Taichi as an older brother. Insecurities like these reminded Jyou of his childhood, where he felt like his brother was growing apart from him, and the gap between their abilities had widened and his older brother didn’t have the time to really look after him. 

Yamato’s feeling as an older brother was reminiscent of his as a younger sibling; they both felt a sense of loneliness, and a lack of belonging. Reflecting on it together, made them feel less isolated. Although this would remain a secret between the two of them, Yamato had harbored a crush on the aforementioned brunette, and was struggling with distinguishing his feelings for the other boy as purely platonic or as something more. Quite frankly, Jyou wasn’t exactly the most experienced and this field, and all he could say was, “ _Your feelings are important, and you deserve to be happy..._ ” to which Yamato beamed at, which put Jyou’s glass heart more at ease. Of course, he couldn’t neglect his tutor principles, and he emphasized to Yamato that school was the most important thing for the moment. To that, Yamato muttered whatever; it made his day to see the soft smile on Yamato’s face, and to see the tension on his face fade. 

—

In their tutoring sessions, Taichi was brash and unapologetic, even when he got his homework answers completely wrong. He wasn’t afraid of making mistakes, and he had his child prodigy friend Koushiro to help him out when Jyou was busy with exams. The startling difference between Taichi and Jyou was that Taichi, as a third grader, appeared more confident and self-composed than he did as a senior... He was a reliable older brother, and he took care of Hikari and Takeru who loved and admired him dearly for it. Even though his form was messy when he would write characters, or when he would accidentally under-season the omurice, he would shrug it off and keep trying. Jyou would never outright say this, but a little part of him was jealous of the eight-year-old boy. 

So, when he caught Taichi in a moment of vulnerability, he truly recognized the young brunette for who he was. He was still a mere child, with too much responsibility and guilt on his shoulders. With tears and snot running down his face, Taichi ruefully admitted to Jyou that he was the sole reason that Hikari was in the hospital and that he was the one to tell her to come outside to play a game of football. To this, Jyou didn’t know what to say. Would it be too harsh to say that Taichi should have known better? Would it be unfair for him to impart his judgment and say it was cruel to place complete blame on the eight year-old boy? He juggled with this dilemma, especially when ultimately, it makes sense why the Yagamis were extremely concerned over the series of events due to Hikari’s poor health (which he actually was not aware of)... If he intends to pursue medicine, what is the right answer to complex issues such as these? Is it right to place blame on a child who honestly wanted the best for their sibling? Wrestling with these thoughts, Jyou couldn’t help but side with the well-intentioned thoughts of children, who simply wanted the best for their loved ones. 

Although he was well approaching his early twenties, when things got too difficult, he found himself crumpling under pressure, especially when he felt like he wasn’t good enough, and that he was an imposter. In a family of doctors, he would become the laughingstock, if not the black sheep, as the one who failed to meet his family’s expectations. At times, Jyou felt like the steadfast, hardworking mentality his parents instilled on him from a young age ripped him from a proper childhood. Often, he was left out when his peers would talk about their favorite childhood shows or video games. If anything, he was lucky to have a break from English or piano lessons. Maybe that’s why it was so nourishing to Jyou’s soul to see these kids thrive. It was inspiring to see them persistently do their best, when he could barely muster his own courage at times.

The faint laughter of the children warmed his heart during bleak times, but the excitement and glimmer in their young, curious eyes filled Jyou with a mixture of anxiety, excitement, and hope. He quite never understood how parents felt when they saw their child walk for the first time, but when Jyou saw the kids’ enthusiasm gradually build up, and their hesitation turning into confidence, Jyou’s chest swelled up with pride. Unbeknownst to him, through this short-term job, he would learn about the wonders of a child’s imagination and the unexpected maturity of tweens. When he found himself speechless at their achievements, he surprised himself as he became a nurturing figure to the rest of them, as a teacher and a mentor. While he taught them additional lessons to their existing curricula, they taught him to believe in the power of friendship, hope, and courage. When had he forgotten just how important those principles were? Did he ever believe in them? Was he robbed of those values, or was it fate that he met these children? Fate had a strange way of doing things.

—

Jyou never anticipated that this tutoring gig would change his world view, and undoubtedly his bleak, monotonous life. Eventually, he would grow to fall in love with the daughter of the flower shop owner next-door, whose ochre, persimmon colored locks sit slightly above her shoulders, freshly cut in a slightly awkward fashion. He grew fond of her, especially after she caught him knees deep in tween drama. 

Recalling the day he met Sora Takenouchi, Jyou recoiled at his own incompetency, but he couldn’t help but feel grateful that Sora had happened to stumble upon their little group, before making her entrance into their lives. As per usual, Taichi and Yamato had gotten into a fight, with snide remarks and a competitive flare which actually motivated them to improve in their studies. However, during this day, Taichi had hit a sore spot of Yamato’s, and the blond boy tackled the brunette straight into the park fountain, as they were all going on their daily walk. His futile attempts to physically wrangle the two kids apart from each other were cut short, with the intervention of a certain redhead by a swift chop to split the two apart. Her voice of reason and resolute tone demanded the two boys to apologize to one another. Somehow, the two actually complied and bitterly said their apologies to one another.

Honestly, Jyou was floored. Flabbergasted even. Then, as if he was struck by lightning, Jyou remembered why her face was so familiar. When he took the kids out of the house to exercise, whether it be for a brisk stroll in the park or for a bike ride around the block, he passed by the mysterious girl with the orange, tousled hair. Her kind, polite smile made Jyou’s facade waver ever so slightly, with a graciousness that made Jyou question why she wasn’t on the display of magazine covers in the convenience store aisles. His cheeks flared up before he managed to stammer a thank you. Albeit, he felt like he was a little too eager and maybe a little creepy throughout the process of asking for her name, but at the moment, Jyou was too filled with adrenaline and influenced by the kids’ childlike wonder and curiosity to care about the gravity of his actions. 

She introduced herself as Takenouchi Sora, and she had a vibrant quality to her voice that somehow kept the kids in check, and she had the confidence that Jyou lacked. Her dangly earrings reminded Jyou of the cat toys that Hikari loved to use to tease Miko with. Her doe eyes stared into the windows of his soul, and her soft smile made Jyou’s heart flutter and his stomach drop. Deep in thought, he realized the four pairs of curious eyes on him. With whispers and mischievous grins filling his vision he hastily bid farewell, and as he was about to sprint home, to salvage the remnants of his dignity (especially after having been caught gawking as his newfound crush by a bunch of kids), Hikari asked him a simple, but extremely forward question.

“Why don’t you ask her to come along?” said Hikari, with a sheepish grin. “It would help a lot, especially since she seems to be really nice!”

“ _W-well, she’s probably busy! Plus, I’m your guys’s tutor! It’s okay, we just shouldn’t bother anyone, especially since it’s my responsibility to watch over all of you_ ,” said Jyou, in a hushed tone, berating the small girl. 

“ _Yeah, well... It would help a lot if she could come play with us and keep Taichi-san and big bro from fighting all the time_!” muttered Takeru, with a quizzical expression. 

Turning on her feet, Sora giggled. Her words were probably imprinted into Jyou’s mind, as she said, “ _Sure, why not? As long as you give me a share of your profits_ ,” cheekily teased Sora, “ _and maybe if you tell me your name_ ,” muttered Sora, with a sheepish expression and a soft blush on the apples of her cheeks. 

—

Following schedule, they all met together at the Yagami residence and at the library, sometimes even alone. On days that the Yagamis had reassured the two that it was okay for the two to “take a break and have fun”, Sora and Jyou quickly realized what exactly they were implying. At first, things were a bit awkward, but the two began to share things they had never gotten the chance to tell others in their lives before. They had grown closer, and undoubtedly inseparable. On days they didn’t tutor the kids, Jyou helped Sora with the shop. When Sora wasn’t preoccupied with helping her mom, she was bringing boxed lunches to their designated study corner in the library, where she often found Jyou huddled with only cans of coffee and tea as his source of sustenance. 

The innocent friendship they had cultivated throughout the weeks and months they had gotten to know each other, had blossomed into a budding relationship, spurred by a mutual confession. It happened as Sora was tending to the flower shop, and the two were alone in the greenhouse. Even with dirt and debris on her face, to Jyou, Sora was beautiful. She was undeniably charismatic and caring, and she made people feel important, like they mattered. On the contrary, even though Jyou’s cargo shorts gave Sora second hand embarrassment, and his skittish nature puzzled Sora at first, she couldn’t help but notice how attentive and truly kind the former was, and how he made her feel as if her concerns for the future were valid, and that she had more to her future aside from inheriting the shop. 

So, when this seemingly peaceful life had come to a halt, and he, Sora, and the young kids had been projected towards the opening in the sky, it’s safe to assume that Jyou’s heart had stopped and he was now staring death straight in the face. The fabric of space and time was disrupted just as quickly as the kids had learned their times tables and their ABC’s. Except, in this moment, death came in the form of a greyish mammal with a orange tuft of hair on its head, and flippers to keep its ...paws? Flippers? Or perhaps a mix of the two?

“ _Hi Jyou! I’m Pukamon!_ ”

It’s safe to say, that it wasn’t in Jyou’s best interest when he passed out right there. 

To boot, it wasn’t exactly pleasant that he, a high school senior, clashed with Taichi and Yamato, two primary schoolers, over who rightfully deserved the position of leader... Maybe it wasn’t the trip he planned, but Jyou honestly wouldn’t trade it for anything. He was with the girl he loved, and with kids who made him realize his life was truly meaningful. He didn’t have to adhere to cookie cutter standards to get into some top tier university. There were things that he could do, to actually serve communities, which were much more significant than going on some self-serving trip. He felt self-assured, and found himself confident.

...On a second thought, with the giant red bug chasing after them, perhaps being at home in his room, hidden from the dangers of the world was far more preferable. 

At the same time, although it was terrifying and nerve wracking, instead of taking pictures with random village kids or mindlessly painting random murals, he did something meaningful. In the digital world, for what seemed like momths, he worked together with Gomamon (which to his surprise, was the evolved form of Pukamon), to restore order in the Digital world with the other five. On the way, they encountered more Digidestined, one of which being Taichi’s friend, Koushiro. Meeting Gennai, the hologram informed them there was in fact, one more Chosen Child... All of this, in the turn of events, was mind boggling to Jyou. When the infected Digimon came to the human world, he helped saved his hometown from infestations of virus Digimon whose power posed a risk to the livelihood of the Japanese people of Tokyo... There, they met the last Chosen Child, Mimi Tachikawa, whose influence as the daughter to the Tachikawa company allowed her to utilize company resources to distribute to people at the evacuation shelter. There, she explained to the rest of them that she had built up Digimon armies on her own. Clearly, Mimi Tachikawa, with her deceptively sweet exterior and gentle demeanor was not a force to be reckoned with...

In spite of all this, his uncertainties plagued his subconscious. His title as a Digi-destined meant something right? He wasn’t brave like Taichi, nor did he bring hope and light to everyone like Hikari and Takeru. He was decisive and focus solely on everyone’s safety and wellbeing like Yamato, not did he exude love and compassion towards everyone as Sora did. He wasn’t the heir of a multi-millionaire company with influence over people and Digimon like Mimi, nor was he a genius like Koushiro. While the kids accepted this easily, he couldn’t help but grapple with his fears and with skepticism towards this idea. Why did he have to get chosen? Why was it his responsibility to prioritize the state of the world over his own livelihood? Even though he couldn’t exactly write that he was a “Digi-destined” in his resume...it counted for something, right?

In these moments, these anxieties swallowed him whole, and threatened his willpower. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel inclined to keep going, with the support of his now partner, Gomamon, along with Sora and the kids. 

He still was the same old Jyou who loved to eat his fried eggs plain and pack emergency packs everywhere he went. Except, now, he had a semblance of direction. Although they weren’t exactly full fledged goals and ambitions at this point, Jyou had felt a sense of purpose that he had never felt before. He bore a sense of responsibility over a nation of people, and an entire digital race, but now, he had reason to believe he could genuinely help others. 

With that, that was enough for him to keep going forward. Although he wasn’t the pinnacle of a multi-talented, gifted kid with a clear future in medicine, he was doing something with his life. He was saving people, Digimon, and doing his part. He taught the four kids, whose overall sense of duty motivates him to keep striving for greatness. To him, that was more than enough.

On second thought, he really should ask his medical brigades program if he could be exempt from that new policy requirement. Or would his trip to the Digital World count for his transcript?

**Author's Note:**

> After months of being inactive, I am back!! Not sure when I’ll get the chance to update other works, but I’m pretty happy with this one (kinda because I relate to Jyou a lot and his reasons for not really wanting to be a Chosen Child). Hope you all are doing well and I hope you all enjoy this :)


End file.
